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“Any excuse to spend more time with you.” That part wasn’t a lie. He wished he didn’t have to attend the party in order to see her, but for some reason it seemed really important to her, so he’d manage his fears. Somehow.
“Thank you. I can’t wait.”
When she leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss, warmth filled him.
Perhaps, for once, he’d done the right thing.
Four
“Do they suspect?”
“No, Master.”
The vampire studied his Sorcerer, who was kneeling before him in supplication. As it should be. Quite a coup to have a powerful creature such as Jinn under his complete control. Such a rush.
That was what love did to the victim—it blinded. A fatal flaw, in the end.
An emotion he would never allow into his heart again.
“Good, my pet.” He stroked the soft hair on the bowed head, let his fingers linger at the nape. “We will continue to blend in, to infiltrate their ranks, learn their secrets. I want you to find me one who we can turn to our purposes. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely, Master. I have one in mind who I’ve learned craves power among the vampires.”
“His name?”
“Graham, a guard. He’ll do nicely.”
“Fine.”
Jinn looked up at him. “About Tarron’s gathering. We’ll still attend?”
“Of course. I’m invited, and no one will recognize you as your true self. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Very much so.” Jinn hesitated, then said solemnly, “Master, I’m going to help you make them all pay for what they’ve done. Every vampire in Tarron’s coven, and every one of their wolf allies. I swear to you.”
For a split second, something like warmth fluttered against his icy soul.
“I know you will. Now, rise and see to it.”
“Yes, Master.”
Jinn pushed to his feet, turned, and left in a swirl of his black cloak. The vampire took a moment to appreciate the Sorcerer’s fine form, then exited the room himself to attend to other business. First, he was ravenous.
Steps quickening, he descended the stone steps to the basement. Then down a dank, torch-lit corridor to one of the cells therein. Using his key, he turned the lock and walked slowly inside. Took stock of his trembling, terrified blood slave and smiled.
“Hello, Tom,” he said pleasantly. “Just dropping in for a quick bite.”
* * *
Nick hadn’t seen Calla since she’d brought him the cookies a few days before, and that didn’t set well with him. At all. He found he missed her company—and her kisses.
Cookies. His heart warmed all over again as he recalled the gesture. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something so thoughtful for him. It made him miss her even more.
Why the hell hadn’t he thought to get her cell phone number? Even vampires had them. He could call Tarron and ask for it, but that would mean a bunch of explanations neither of them was ready to give. Tarron would likely question him about his sister inviting Nick to the gathering as it was. Dammit!
The party was tonight, though, so his wait was over. He’d chosen to concentrate on Calla and not on the fact that he’d be surrounded by dozens of the elite of her kind. Or that was how it was supposed to work. His suit chafed against his skin, so uncomfortable he felt like stripping it off and going dressed in his jeans, a black T-shirt, heavy boots, and a few weapons strapped on for good measure.
But that probably wouldn’t bode well for diplomatic relations.
